


Love Turned Aside

by nonky



Category: Emerald City (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9919787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: Dorothy didn't trust promises anyway. Mothers were promises, lovers were promises and her sweet, lost home in Kansas was a promise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to 1x08

It was like a beautiful tomb, orderly and clean as the world outside was a fairy tale shaken in a snow globe. Dorothy could see Lucas wanting it to be his home. She knew it as a trap, but there was an immersive peace to the high marble walls that felt like a stories deep swimming pool. 

He was an adult. If he wanted to stay, if he had a life there, she would leave him to it. Sylvie was a child, and she deserved a life beyond being a pawn in a war of magic fighting the Wizard's transplanted science. 

Glinda was beautiful, cold but human. She was human enough to be offended Dorothy had been traveling with her husband and looking after one of her trainee witches like a little family.

If the offense could be soothed, maybe the Wizard wasn't her only way home. Dorothy didn't want to be a killer. She barely understood where she'd been wandering, let alone enough of the history to pick a side. The quiet of a tomb mixed numbingly with the inescapable height of a prison's walls, and it was defeating her from the inside out.

"I've heard you called a good witch. I can tell you're at least a reasonable person because you didn't have me killed on sight," Dorothy said letting her voice sound as bleak as her heart. "People are saying I killed your sister. Will you let me explain what happened?"

Glinda's tone was even and perfect, a lightness to it that echoed her pale castle. 

"I'm not sure it would matter, but my husband has asked for mercy on your behalf. You appear to have saved one of my novices. I warn you; lies will burn your tongue. I make no promises."

Shaking her head, she felt her hair fly wildly. She was dirty and sweaty. Her untidiness was the opposite of Glinda's poised tolerance. It was probably hopeless thinking words would give a reason for anything to make sense. She had to try. Dorothy didn't trust promises anyway. Mothers were promises, lovers were promises and her sweet, lost home in Kansas was a promise. 

"I don't intend to lie. The first thing you need to know is this is not my world. I'm from a place called Kansas, and I was caught in a storm - a tornado. It picked me up in one of our cars, like a carriage without horses, and dropped me here. When I landed, the car rolled and hit your sister. I didn't know who she was, I thought she was dead," Dorothy said sadly.

Glinda's gown flicked a continuous unremarkable sound as the witch circled her warily. There was no anxiety, but it was odd to be confessing a murder. 

"A tribe from the East found me, and imprisoned me for killing the woman they called the witch of the East Woods. Then, suddenly, she revived, and I became her prisoner. I had a bag of things from my world, supplies anyone there could buy and use. One of them was a gun, which is a small machine used to kill people. I told your sister not to, but she used it on herself and then she really did die. Her powers, these magic gloves, came to me."

Glinda's only reply was a slow, reptilian blink, so chilling it wouldn't have surprised Dorothy to be cut off then. She clammed up and waited for something to happen, but no one approached and no magic flared to strike at her.

"I was sorry, but I wanted to survive to get home. I was told to go to Emerald City. Luc-Roan had been hung up to die, and I cut him down. We walked together, and he watched my back. We found Sylvie much the same way," she said. Her hands shook, and she wondered if Glinda's patience even allowed for negotiation. This felt like being toyed with by a cat, running herself ragged before she died. 

But her alternative was dying quietly and easily, no fuss or muss. None of her patients had ever lamented trying to live in their last moments. They'd fought, and wanted a second chance.

"I didn't mean to kill anyone. I didn't want magic. I didn't mean to take anyone away from a home where they were loved and wanted. I was lost and so were they. This has been one long accident. I don't know you. I'm not sure what you're doing with these girls is right, but I didn't want to kill you. The Wizard of Oz has a way for me to go home. I was his prisoner and I made a bargain to get out."

It was the broadest possible telling of the tale, both because details wouldn't help her be convincing and her time was likely counting down. She had to survive to do anything to help anyone. It wasn't clear if Roan even wanted to be included in a rescue. Sylvie was still standing off to one side, looking terrified and watching Dorothy hopefully.

"So you don't want Roan," Glinda asked, her tone only mildly questioning. 

"I don't know him. I knew a man I chose to call Lucas, only because he remembered nothing except a terrible guilt over his past actions."

An honest answer, as far as that went. If magic was real, Lucas could be the real person and Roan the prisoner brainwashed to miss the dismissive touch he'd been given to send him out of the room. Dorothy didn't know how to sort that out, so she stalled. Alive was alive, and she could plan.

"That was not an answer." Displeasure from the witch, a tone like a cold wind filling the castle. 

"No, I don't want him, not if he's your husband," She said quickly. 

She'd done that, spent her love on the married man implying he was very soon changing things with his wife and he had something to offer. Very soon was never, and changing things was sleeping with Dorothy without any ill effects to his own conscience. 

The feeling of a fireplace bursting strongly to life filled her mouth, and she screamed. It seemed like the fire should spill out, but it remained on her tongue, searing for long minutes. 

Glinda made the smallest gesture and Dorothy was carried away by two girls only a little older than Sylvie, using magic to drag her as she fought. She kicked and whimpered, but no sound could get past the fire. 

It probably saved her life, because the only person she was screaming to was Lucas. His marriage seemed like such a small thing next to her hammering, straining heart.


End file.
